


When Tulips Bloom In Winter

by MariekoWest



Series: DragonBall(☆)Retro [10]
Category: Dragon Ball Z, GohanxPiccolo
Genre: Apron Kink, Canon Male-Hermaphroditic Piccolo, Canon Overhaul, Christmas/Yuletide Setting, Cross-Dressing Kink, Domestic Love-Making, Excessive Romanticism, Fluff, Hermaphroditic & Alien Biology, Interspecies Sex, Lemon, Lime, M/M, Married Life, NSFW, Other, Rainbow-vomit inducing smuff, Shounen-ai, Smut, Uke Piccolo, Yaoi, クリスマス, チチ, テゥーリップ•タンジェリン•大魔王孫/テゥーリップ【オリジナルキャラクター】, ドラゴンボール, ピッコロ受け, ピッコロ大魔王ＪＲ/ピッコロさん, 孫悟飯ＪＲ, 少年愛, 日本的なクリスマス, 飯Ｐ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6137448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariekoWest/pseuds/MariekoWest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slice of Son Gohan Jr. and Piccolo Daimaoh Jr.’s life as a married couple set in the Yuletide season. <b>Be warned:</b> Highly indulgent HanP (GohanxPiccolo) lovey-dovey, lemony domesticity. <b>[2nd Revision 2018/01/27]</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Half

**Author's Note:**

> **Related Work:**  
>  [Tulip Daimaoh Son (Character Design Sketch)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6447193)  
> [Umarete Yokatta](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10210631)  
> [If I Could Stop The Rain](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6447193)  
> [Santaccolo-san](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13346310)  
>  (Though, all stories in my DragonBall(☆)Retro universe are interconnected, actually.)
> 
> * * *
> 
> This is a load of SMUFF [Smut+Fluff](somewhat rainbow-vomit inducing in its excessive smuffiness) with the unique brand of cute-sexy that is GohanxPiccolo (HanP). Something written purely to pacify my HanP smuffy craving. Random Japanese scattered here & there from being oriented exclusively with original Japanese language DB/DBZ. Drawn from canon facts (like Piccolo being both asexual and hermaphroditic) but also includes personal headcanons, an original (derivative) character, plus references to my other unpublished stories.

[ ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13346310)

* * *

_Everything was bright lights, enticing aromas, and delightfully snow-capped…_

_It was going to be a White Christmas._

 

**-x-**

 

Son Gohan Jr. took in a deep, soothing breath; waves of euphoria coursing through him. It was his first Christmas back on his home planet after being *away for three Earth years, and he couldn’t have asked for anything more…

Walking through the silently charged festive streets on a snowy night before the eve of Christmas with his most beloved; everything he had ever wished for--the best present in the whole universe--literally, within his grasp. Entwined in his companion’s elegant fingers, his grip tightened possessively; an action that always resulted in a warm fuzzy tingle in his core that never failed to make itself evident in his cheeks; the giddy titter escaping his chapped lips, unstoppable.

He sighed deeply. His former self hadn’t known it was possible to be this happy.

The seven foot owner of the said fingers being squeezed gave the boy a curious glance.

_‘Are you feeling alright, Gohan?’_

_‘Uhm-hmm.’_

_‘What are you thinking?’_

Another unstoppable giggle filtered through their mental link. ‘ _You should know the answer to that, my love! You’re in my head right now.’_

Big deep-brown eyes peered up at its clear ***** lapis lazuli counterparts, playfully expectant; that signature winsome smile that rivalled the sun’s radiance painted all over his countenance.

His towering partner gamely closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to chase down Gohan’s thoughts in their shared consciousness; much like chasing lightning bunnies in a swirling mist…

Gohan watched his companion’s face closely. His endless fascination with the Earth-born Namek that took root since he was little had grown into fervent adoration, and later on—as time shaped him into an adult—inevitably blossomed into so much more. His senses, all of his mind and soul, were always endlessly enthralled by everything that was the ethereal being before him. Known to the rest of the world as the evil Piccolo Daimaoh’s spawn, but to him and only him, as a dearest best friend, mentor, *guardian demon, and now– _his beloved other half_.

So great and all-encompassing were his feelings for the Namek that he was convinced of no other explanation except that if souls could fall in love even before their human minds could rationalize and oversimplify the phenomenon with words and worldly preconceptions– then his soul had already long fallen. _Hopelessly, irrevocably, and interminably._

Doing his very best to concentrate on walking sure and straight without bumping into anyone in the crowded street, the demi-Saiyajin tenaciously kept his gaze on Piccolo’s serene face; a stark contrast to his own which was rapt with anticipation. And when a small smile formed at the corners of those plush green lips, he instinctively held his breath.

“ _‘Piccolo-san’s hand is so warm. It’s nice…’_.” Piccolo recited in his usual euphonious baritone; and Gohan had to make a conscious effort to stop himself from drooling. Then, with eyes still closed, his Namek continued, “ _‘Ahh! Piccolo-san’s voice is just too sexy!’._ ”

“Gaah!” Gohan jumped flabbergasted, squeezing his companion’s hand reflexively. “Don’t overdo it!”

The smile on his beloved’s face broadened, exposing some fang. “Sorry. I thought you wanted me to know what you were thinking.”

“Uhh. Yeah…” The teenager shyly dodged the Namek’s gaze, silently reprimanding the child in him that was becoming too indecently giddy.

A tug at their connected hands made him look up, and he gasped softly right before receiving Piccolo’s open-mouthed kiss. He squeaked when he felt some tongue and _oh, Kamisama…_ _that heated softness felt so nice against his frostbitten lips!_ He was blissfully getting lost in what felt like small eternities, when the mind-numbing kiss ended too soon. Gohan blinked up dazedly at his partner, mouth agape and lips tingling. He let out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding, forming steam clouds that fogged up his eyeglasses.

They had stopped walking right there in the middle of the sidewalk, not remembering to care about passers-by; trapped in each other’s visage and basking in the buzzing energy radiating from their chests. Soon enough, feet tiptoed and arms lifted, giving in to reconnecting with those heavenly lips and the maddening urge to embrace the strong neck hidden beneath layered mufflers.

_‘Piccolo-san,’_ Gohan whimpered inwardly, as he continued to enjoy that saccharine-sweet warmth, becoming so light-headed and oblivious of where they were or the possible scene they could be causing. Deft green fingers eventually stripped him of his eyeglasses which he seemed to have altogether forgotten, too intent on getting a better angle as he obdurately prodded and cradled the Namek’s sharp fangs with his tongue, precariously knocking both their eyeglasses askew in the process.

Piccolo was likewise, hastily stripped of his own black-rimmed spectacles thereafter—which he only wore upon Gohan’s insistence as part of his “Earthling disguise”. Not that aliens weren’t welcome on Earth; it just so happened that Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. wasn’t just some ordinary alien, but one very famous and infamous all at once (for many conflicted reasons, some truer than the others).

“G-Gohan…!” Piccolo grunted as he was pulled down against the boy’s lips even harder, arms slinking from his nape to under his arms and around his torso to press their bodies flush against one another until there seemed to be a vacuum between them void of air or resistance. The young demi-Saiyajin was getting very much enthused with the kiss that the sounds slipping from his lips began to lose all reserve; to which against Piccolo’s more rational tendencies, green lips beginning to bruise purple couldn’t help but comply with equally mounting fervour. As always, the boy’s profound effect on him dashed all of his well practiced control. _‘G-Gohan, you’re hovering off the ground!’_ the still somewhat coherent part of him thought important to mention.

“Huh?” Gohan vaguely acknowledged, still very much preoccupied with the mouth he was plundering that nearly a full minute lapsed before he actually took heed. And even still– not completely relinquishing, if only to linger some moments more as he took it upon himself to nurse the bleeding cut and several bruises he had adorned Piccolo’s lower lip with; drunkenly licking the plainly visible puffy purplish stains upon green that was his proud handiwork.

Piccolo blinked blearily as he was finally released; cheeks dusted deep purple. He always had considerable difficulty regaining his full faculties after being attacked not so chastely. To which Gohan never failed to miss a beat in drinking in greedily. He sighed appreciatively at his husband’s elusive bewildered expression; the flashing background lights seemingly conspiring in highlighting his beloved’s exquisite colours all the more.

_‘Kamisama… You’re so beautiful.’_

Gohan ceremoniously buried himself in the crook of Piccolo’s neck to indulge in one last whiff of his mate’s sweet addicting scent, bestowed a feather-light peck on the tip of what he considered the handsomest nose in existence, before somewhat forlornly untangling himself and touching ground as inconspicuously as possible; Piccolo leaning forward slightly as they replaced each other’s spectacles.

Only when their fingers found each other’s and weaved together again (even tighter than before) did they resume walking. And though they originally planned to stroll leisurely and soak in the city’s festive mood until only a couple of hours before midnight, Gohan changed his mind.

“Shall we hurry back home as soon as we get everything we need?”

He received a mute nod, and they weaved through the crowd into selected stores to pick up some last minute items.

The taller of the two simply received packages to carry and peered down curiously at the owner of the messy ebony mane as they went about their task. The Namek received a few curious stares from strangers himself as he did so (mainly because of his intimidating height which no amount of disguising could hide), but he didn’t notice nor mind.

Gohan picked out a simple dinner comprised of food they mutually enjoyed: double mozzarella cheese pizza, a strawberries and cream chiffon cake, and red wine which he had acquired a taste for during their sojourn in *Asteroid E2.

Piccolo sniffed curiously at the food, ensuing a chuckle from Gohan who knew his Namek’s equally heightened sense of smell was picking up the inviting aromas in prodigious doses, and it was the decadently frosted cake he was zeroing in on the most.

The Namek’s sweet tooth—specifically for richly frosted cakes—was a precious little secret only Gohan was privy to. Piccolo had been obstinately shy about it when he first discovered it after numerous coffee shop dates, and it thrilled him to no end to have found something he could spoil his beloved on; especially now that it was his official and exclusive privilege as his spouse. Every chance at hounding his talented patissier-esque Z-Senshi friends to make sweets and cakes in the pretence that it was to satisfy his own cravings was not let up. And even if it eventually dragged the subject of his drastically altered eating habits all the more into the spotlight, watching his Namek enjoy cake made it all worth it.

By some miracle or freak of nature (depending on whose perspective)—having somehow imbibed the Namek’s scanty eating habits (even long before they tied the knot)—the young half-Saiyajin adult rarely ate as much anymore, if not only during his visits to his mother and only upon her stern assertion. Even if the eldest Son sibling had always been relatively more reserved in habits and manners compared to his Saiyajin kin when it came to food, it still caused quite a stir among his friends and family who were well-versed with normal Saiyajin eating habits. It shocked them how slender he had gotten despite his still above-average muscular build for a six-foot and two centimetre eighteen-year-old.

But Gohan was fit as a fiddle; even unwittingly twice reaffirming the title he earned as “Strongest in the Galaxy” in the recent apocalyptic *HFIL incident, and in the even more recent and renowned Intergalactic Games on Asteroid E2. And though he didn’t seem to be getting anywhere as broad-shouldered as his late father or as burly as Goten (who had an appetite that rivalled Goku’s)– he was taking on a more modestly robust build, one that they couldn’t help associate more with Piccolo’s physique; especially in terms of height where he managed to surpass the Son household by a full three centimetres. Who’s to say all those tiptoeing for kisses and suspended upside-down crunches two thousand times twice a day didn’t slowly but surely gain him those extra centimetres? Kririn tactlessly joked once during a Z-Senshi meeting that it must have been due to the copious amounts of Namek DNA he’s absorbed from too much sex with Piccolo (a comment received with volatile silence—the only one who took it seriously enough to acknowledge it being Gohan himself).

Even so, the demi-Saiyajin’s obsession to grow even taller so he didn’t have to lean back as much just to see Piccolo’s eyes properly, or hover off the ground to ambush his husband’s lips with kisses had not diminished at all with time. Much of the opposite can be said, in fact, that he even considered asking Shenron for a few more inches more than once. His friends had to committedly stop him, saying that it was a stupid idea and that if he got any taller he might as well have green skin to match. (Gohan’s sudden dreamy expression after that left them utterly flummoxed. Clearly, they were still far off the mark when it came to the extent of Gohan’s adoration for the Namek and all his attributes.)

Presently, they stopped in front of what looked like a clothes shop and Piccolo’s eyes narrowed at his mate who only smiled back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Gohan put his hands to Piccolo’s chest to stop him from following.

“Stay here. I’m picking up your present and I don’t want to ruin the surprise. I’ll be quick.” Adding for good measure: “And don’t read my mind!”

The Namek only raised a brow behind all the packages he was carrying. _A present for him?_

_‘Gohan,’_ he sent telepathically as the boy had already disappeared inside the shop. _‘I have yet to get you anything.’_

_‘Says the one who can conjure matter out of thin air.’_

_‘Well… Out of surrounding energy, to be exact.’_

_‘It makes no difference to me. All I know is that you are amazing and you turn me on so hard. I can’t wait to get home so I can have my way with you as much as I want.’_

Piccolo’s mental signal stuttered.

The demi-Saiyajin re-emerged shortly carrying a rectangular box which Piccolo eyed suspiciously. Something told him he didn’t need to read his husband’s idiosyncratic mind to know what the box contained.

Three years worth of unconditional intimacy covered just about everything that their pre-marriage relationship had not. If it was him and his weakness for sweet fluffy desserts– this was the teen’s predilection for dressing him up in human clothing ranging from “mild-mannered” disguises (spurred by the *recent fiasco with The Golden Warrior and his Namek missus’ real identity being pried open by the public) to downright “kinky and fetishistic” attires.

Piccolo had never successfully been able to rationalize how the boy could so easily melt his barriers, but if he was already more than willing to die for him countless times over, then their little “dress-up” games could hardly be counted as a sacrifice—if his pride would not be allowed to have a say in the matter. Though everyone knew by now that when it came to Gohan, the normally aloof Earth-born Namek already had little of it to none.

And Piccolo himself never had reason to deny it. Being the one Gohan chose to bond with and define his happiness out of all the eligible and more conventionally acceptable candidates for the part was a fact never lost to him. He knew how staggeringly lucky he was to be the apple of the pure-hearted half-breed’s eye—he and his pride, at least, agreed on that.

After Gohan had eased Piccolo of half of his load, they both walked indolently to the edge of the city, enjoying the festive yet altogether tranquil atmosphere, and before they knew it– they had stepped into the border where the city ended and the forest began. They walked further in until they were out of sight, as customary, before charging their Ki and blasting off into the sky in the direction of their humble home.

An unimposing bungalow type, spherical brick house that they fashioned using organic materials and Namekian magic situated in the section of the forest within earshot of Piccolo’s favourite waterfall was their abode.

Some distance behind it was a clearing littered with flowers in shades of blushing orange and diluted violet, miraculously in full bloom despite the thick snow carpets, and dancing with the playful night breeze.

“Mother will be expecting us around eleven o’clock for lunch tomorrow morning. We can head straight there because she offered to be the one to get *Tulip-kun from Capsule Corp.”

Piccolo nodded; a flurry of fond emotions flooding his chest at the mention of their dearest daughter.

“And then we head to Capsule Corp after lunch to help *Bloomer-san prepare for the Z-Senshi party in the evening. It’ll be great to catch up everyone after so long! I got you a white, long-sleeved shirt and black tie that will look stunning on you, Piccolo-san! Everything always does.” ‘ _Even nothing.’_

Piccolo’s cheeks burned as he grit out, “Stop buying me clothes, Gohan. Why would you want to go through the trouble when you can just project the images to me and I can create it.”

“Because…” Gohan began with a hint of admonition. “If I want something that flaunts how sexy you are, you refuse to make it!”

The erstwhile unmarried Piccolo used to be in the dark about that word: sexy. But now he had a fairly ample picture of what it meant.

In fact… He had more than enough illuminating pictures, all of which he was made the unwitting subject of its interpretation – being the sole object of his overzealous husband’s hobby to do with secret identities and donning costumes. A lifetime of ignorance in such matters now completely wiped out after all the exposure he’d been put through (though “overexposure” would seem to be the more accurate term for it, in all senses of the word).

“It’s not my fault you’ve got so much pent-up sexy in you, Piccolo-san.”

Piccolo wrinkled his nose. “Stop calling me that.”

“ _Sexy, sexy, sexy!_ _Piccolo-san is super sexy!_ And I’m not going to stop rubbing it in until you own up!”

Piccolo could only growl under his breath.

“Ugh. Even Piccolo-san’s growl is super sexy!”

“Alright. Now that’s just childish.”

Hearty laughter from Gohan filled the air even as he walked ahead to their front porch. Already, Piccolo was starting to feel a growing dread for the upcoming Z-Senshi Christmas get-together the next day—and with good reason.

If it wasn’t embarrassing enough when it was just the two of them, Gohan was no different when he talked about ‘ _his dearest Piccolo-sama_ ’ in front of their friends. Though Gohan tried his best to keep himself in check in the presence of others, their new married status seemed only to warrant more of his open declarations of love to a feverish degree, regardless of time, place, or audience.

In a press conference following the events of the HFIL incident where they were all forced to make themselves known to the world they saved, he shocked everyone even more by calmly revealing (after relentless probing from both the press and the masses) that he was very much engaged to be married and very happily head-over-heels-in-love so too. When they further hounded him for specifics, he politely requested that his personal life be respected and kept private, pointing out that surely even heroes deserved that.

The love-stricken youth, however, lost all inhibitions when their first child, _Tulip Daimaoh Son_ was born, and was slowly even growing accustomed to the perks of his “professional life” (as he would often call it) as a celebrity superhero; never failing to talk about his husband and daughter in the highest, most loving regard. Thus, even gaining the once notoriously feared Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. a zealous fan club based on Asteroid E2.

Gohan was a young man and proud father now, but Piccolo still always saw the five-year-old Gohan in such moments when he would profess his undying adoration for him; cheeks blooming roses and stars in his eyes.

Said young man was now struggling to extract the key to their front door from his jeans pocket while trying to keep the load he was carrying balanced—a cliché that most people probably never imagined the strongest being in the galaxy had to grapple with, but as the cliché goes—the said packages teetered precariously and began to topple…!

Gohan’s exclamation is cut short when the said packages suddenly floated up and away from disaster, held steadfast in mid-air by a mild telekinetic field. A distinct click in the background told him that the door to their dwelling too had become unfastened, without any more need for the key.

Swivelling slowly, the awestruck teen spied a green finger that was the source of the magic that endlessly captivated him; and his eyes twinkled even brighter as the said graceful finger was brought before lush green lips and was blown clear of imaginary smoke.

Everything around Gohan ceased to exist at that moment; the door as it swung open, the packages floating in a neat pile around them, and if were possible– even his need to breathe and ticking time itself. All of his world became everything that was his bedazzling Super Namek.

A steam cushioned “ _Wow._ ” was all that managed to escape him before he threw himself at Piccolo and sealed purple-tinged, green lips with his own—heatedly pressing, kneading not-so-gently, and mutually bruising; his limbs locking tighter and firmer around as much of Piccolo’s body that it could encompass, looking for all the world like a koala clinging for dear life onto its favourite tree as they sucked and snagged each other with fanatically affectionate caresses and kisses.

_‘Your telekinesis has gotten much more powerful!’_ he gushed avidly into their shared link.

_‘Mmm… been practicing… *E2’s unadulterated environment…’_ Piccolo managed to respond to the best of his dulled articulacy at the moment; gently sliding off the teen’s spectacles and flinging it aside to float with the rest of the objects around them as an added demonstration of his heightened magical prowess.

“Show off…” Gohan breathlessly whispered as he took off Piccolo’s own “pretend” eye-glasses and angled himself to nibble on Piccolo’s ear, tongue flicking out and teasing the inner lobe with moist softness.

“Ngghh!” Piccolo’s telekinetic hold wavered as shivers shot up his spine; but Gohan didn’t seem to notice nor care, and the torment to his lover’s sensitive ears persisted.

Now that they were back in the privacy of their home, Gohan clearly had a lot of bottled-up “adoration” to release. Not that he wasn’t enjoying how he was being driven blind with arousal via one of his most erogenous zones, but having to withstand the sensual torment while all of his concentration was needed to balance more than a dozen objects with an experimental higher level of psychokinesis was pushing his mental capacity to overdrive.

Helpless to the eager intrusion, Piccolo could only part his lips obligingly, as Gohan returned to woo his mouth. The demi-Saiyajin’s free hand replaced his tongue to thoroughly trace the grooves of his earlobe and gradually roam farther north to massage the base of his antennae.

Piccolo could only manage to flick out his tongue now and then, barely grazing those hungry demi-Saiyajin lips; whetting and tasting, but pulling back just as quickly as reticent groans and gasps are forced out from his core unbidden – altogether unintentionally depriving the youth the satisfaction of a full-blown torrid kiss.

Gohan growled in frustration after some bouts of it, and clung even tighter to him in an effort to deepen the kiss.

_‘Piccolo-san, you’re being a tease!’_ the raven-haired boy whinged as he once again pulled the larger frame snug into his own with a force beyond human resistance. Unmistakably, evidence of his frustration was making itself known in the form of the rock-hardness jabbing into the Namek’s firm abdomen. It was Piccolo’s turn to growl at the sensation.

_‘Piccolo-san… kiss me… *onegai!’_

_‘G-Gohan…!’_

A loud ‘thunk’ followed by another, and another, reluctantly tore the couple’s attentions away from each other.

Gohan hazily turned in time to see the rest of the packages wobble in the air for a split-second before succumbing to gravity. In a flash he had caught all the important ones: the wine, the cake, and the pizza; saving their Christmas dinner.

“Nice catch,” Piccolo panted shakily, barely able to maintain his posture, but still managing to telekinetically cushion the fall of the remaining packages. Following his mental command, Gohan’s eyeglasses gravitated towards him, and he gently replaced the item on the boy’s face.

With cheeks heavily tinted and eyes looking for all the world like an apologetic kitten’s, Piccolo said, *“ _Suman_. I haven’t gotten the hang of it as well as I thought… It’s much harder to do when you’re err… kissing me… _that hard_.”

Gohan laughed numbly, feeling nothing else but his arousal, which promptly intensified at the rare coy display. His heavily intoxicated mind all but wanted to jump his husband right there and then; but he knew he didn’t really have to wait that much longer…

“My bad.” He pulled his lover by the sleeve with him as he stepped inside. “That means we just need to keep practising until you can manage it then, Piccolo-san.”

 

They secured the food and packages without further incident. Gohan then worked to light the fireplace while Piccolo prepared the utensils and wares they would be needing for their simple Christmas dinner. When he had finished setting them on the dish rack to dry (though he always cheated and used a bit of magic when it was his turn for dish-washing duty), he thoughtfully approached Gohan who was getting as impatient as he was cold.

Chucking the matches to one side, the half-breed finally gave in to using a small Ki blast to ignite the logs. He looked up at his approaching partner with one of his signature sheepish titters. Gohan stood up suddenly, his eyes curiously glued to—not Piccolo’s face, rather… to his apron.

The same apron that he had given his Namek husband as an anniversary present (one he had sewn himself); a simple white one with an equally stark yellow and fuzzy *chibi-fied chick embroidered right smack in the middle. Gohan had already seen Piccolo don the apron no less than a dozen times over, and yet it was noteworthy how he never failed to ogle. The boy soon noticed the object of his stare staring at him staring, and it pulled up a nervous laugh from his chest.

Gohan plopped down the couch and motioned for Piccolo to sit – patting the space beside him with an intense expression that Piccolo only recognized too well by now as sexual hunger.

**_Get your gorgeous Namekian ass over here, now_** _,_ he could practically feel Gohan’s hooded eyes command his body.

_Okay_ , Piccolo thought, _this must be why we didn’t get any appetizer…_

The willingly domesticated Super Namek obeyed, feeling the familiar coil in his stomach tighten and burn, sending waves of heat throughout his body—all the way to his toes to the tips of his antennae. He had forgotten to take off the apron before facing Gohan, forgetting the strange effect it always had on the boy…

Too late.

No sooner had he seated his “gorgeous ass” on the couch was he predatorily pounced on, his head falling none-too-gently into a fluffy pile of throw pillows, and just like that, was effectively boxed in by the demi-Saiyajin’s body with no way out. He was straddled and kissed— lightly at first; but then Gohan discarded his eyeglasses and Piccolo was once again arrested by that lidded, lust-hazed stare, as nimble fingers worked to undo his plain white button-up cotton shirt. The more skin was exposed to the boys preying gaze, the more that gaze grew hooded and needy; those fingers noticeably gaining urgency in its task. Intense brown orbs bore into foggy blues, never breaking the connection, not even to blink.

Piccolo thought to ask his partner if he would rather he zapped off the shirt to leave only the apron (as he knew that was what Gohan was ultimately driving for, which was always the case). But he himself was shamefully torn between impatience and the whole thrill of the foreplay; which only got harder to bear as his own body grew hotter and hotter with bated anticipation.

His breathing quickened as Gohan reached underneath the apron to unfasten the rest of the buttons hidden from view; deliberately running lithe fingers over the textured ridges and smooth plateaus of his chest and finally managing to open up the fabric enough to give reign to heated calloused hands over exquisite Namekian skin; kneading up and down in a very stimulating manner.

Piccolo’s heartbeat escalated further, each breath becoming laboured and heavy as he closed his eyes to the mind-numbing sensation of Gohan’s strong touches upon him. He heard a half-growl, half-moan before a hungry mouth closed in on his neck; wasting no time in licking, sucking, and worshipping the gracefully long and muscular expanse of flesh with lips and tongue; as though the taste of him was akin to some sacred dish to be savoured and consumed very slowly.

Those possessive hands and mouth combined with the tantalizing noises made by his lover as he “helped himself” to his body, more than sufficed to awaken his most intimate parts, bringing with it that by now all too familiar feeling of slipping control seeping from his conscious mind; giving way to the takeover of his more primal tendencies. His hands which had been ambivalently pressing against Gohan’s shoulders but accomplishing nothing whatsoever to diminish the intensity of the boy’s onslaught, soon gave in to stroking the raven-haired boy’s nape in encouragement. Eventually, one hand slipped low to Gohan’s back, dangerously close to the base of his tail; resting at the curve of his hip where his claws involuntarily dug little red marks – only stopping short of breaking skin but inflicting just enough pain to make the boy purr in pleasure amidst little jolts of pain.

“Piccolo… nnggh… san!” Gohan heaved in-between kisses, breathing his love’s divine scent as deeply as he could into his soul, riding the euphoric feeling of his mind repeatedly reeling from the addicting sweetness. ‘ _Piccolo-san… Piccolo-san… Piccolo-san…! I love you…’_ came the boy’s thoughts, loud and clear.

Hungry mouths sought each other and exchanged frenzied kisses; all the while, Piccolo tenderly coaxed Gohan to lower his Ki by gently rubbing at his back near his tail’s base (their prearranged signal). As it often did when his passions where misting over his senses, the half-Saiyajin’s energy was spiralling out of control. Piccolo’s breath hitched when he felt that tell-tale spike in the boy’s Ki, knowing full well what it meant: that Gohan’s irises were most certainly glowing Super Saiyajin behind curtained eyelids—and that the boy was oblivious to his transformation again, much too absorbed in their current activity.

The phenomenon used to cause Piccolo considerable alarm, because Gohan would end up continuously ascending and dispersing ridiculous amounts of Ki without even being aware of it. Until Vegeta so “graciously” (and indiscreetly) explained to them (and everyone else present then) when they had formally announced their “engagement”, that it was a “Saiyajin thing”, especially to Saiyajins who had won over their ideal mate and was in the throes of passionate sex with their chosen individual. The Saiyajin prince was quick to add that even if such a thing was hardwired into Saiyajin blood, it rarely ever manifested in its extreme. Because their kind normally mated for more practical reasons – that primarily being the need to simply gratify carnal desires or for the continued survival and proliferation of their species. “Love” was but a myth to most original Saiyajins and was rarely ever the reason for sexual needs—therefore almost hardly ever a requirement. In a nutshell, Saiyajins never needed nor entertained the notion of falling in love, but in the unheard of occasion that they did– it was almost always chaotic and unstoppable. Emotions were the Saiyajin’s key to unlocking and controlling their power, and “love” was that one key that they had trouble using for that purpose; therefore, more often than not, resulted in more destruction to the wielder than to foes. Previously stated case in point was why it was considered foolish and dangerous, and scarcely ever condoned in the first place.

Furthermore, if the courting process was luckily survived,  it would still typically require an insuperable amount of self-control to prevent a frenzied Saiyajin’s Ki from running completely amok while copulating with their lovingly chosen mate and having all that energy explode in a fearsome implosion (or explosion—whichever came first). Of course, Vegeta especially relished further expounding that the danger could be presumed to be even more extreme, if the said Saiyajin supposedly happened to be the “Strongest in the Galaxy” (at which point, most of their Z-Senshi company paled, as opposed to the couple in question with fierce blushes fast staining their faces).

Certain that he could not promise to abstain from making love to his husband even at the expense of the planet, Gohan could only meekly promise everyone that they would be careful… _Very, very careful_ ; while getting no solicitation from Piccolo who seemed to have lost his powers of speech at that moment– completely too nonplussed.

 

As they were a fairly new couple, they were still both learning to help get Gohan’s power in check whenever they did what normal madly in love married couples did. Only, they were anything _but_ normal.

Fortunately, after more than three Earth years of being “madly in love” and having an “above-average active sex life” without any unfortunate incidents of Ki implosions or explosions and such reported so far, it served a reaffirmation to everyone who knew them both– of the running fact that if there was anyone most qualified to get the world’s most powerful Saiyajin’s powers in check, no one was more suited to the job than the Earth-born Namek.

Before that invaluable chunk of knowledge that Vegeta had provided, Gohan did ascend almost two levels worth of Super Saiyajin the very first time they got sexually intimate, and also a greater portion of all the other instances that followed.

But Piccolo’s fears were easily assuaged by the fact that it was Gohan after all, and there was no one in the world he trusted more. That, and truth be told, he rather liked it when Gohan lost control. He would know more than anyone else, how many times the boy relinquished his own desires to meet other’s expectations of him. Which was the very reason he even thought it healthy if the boy actually felt free enough to totally cut lose every now and then; and he was more than honoured to provide a channel for that – even if that “channel” had to be his own body.

That day when Gohan first cleared up all doubts about his feelings for him and they had both allowed a night of intense mindless passion to overtake them, he didn’t expect to wake up from it unscathed. But to Piccolo, any amount of suffering was well worth the price to see Gohan finally do and get what he truly wanted for once.

He couldn’t deny the unimaginable pleasure that he experienced of course, but the pain unintentionally inflicted upon him then, though undoubtedly excruciating at some points—having to withstand not only the physical act of sex for the first time with one of the strongest beings in the universe who wasn’t holding back the slightest but also the full brunt of Super Saiyajin energies coursing through his prone body as the boy took his virginity—was hardly anything compared to how much it hurt to think that that innocent, unselfish boy that he loved more than life itself had been holding back true feelings in his heart for the longest time out of regard for his own. Because Gohan held his best friend’s feelings in the deepest and highest regard. Worrying endlessly about others was never a good thing, but Gohan couldn’t help being that way as anyone who had a good heart intrinsically was. However, as a result, it wound-up the poor boy so tightly he could almost physically choke on all the pressure constantly bearing down on him since a very young age; having to grow up sooner than most, and fight never-ending horrific battles. That, coupled with his mother’s constant nagging about inconsequential matters; his father’s carefree and irresponsible disposition; and lately, the stress that even the public has added to that, with all that’s been happening that got the world hell-bent on learning the true identity of The Golden Warrior.

But Gohan, for some reason, always found comfort and quietude with him; one of the greatest reasons he promised to never leave the boy’s side despite all the challenges that came with that decision.

**-x-**

_“Gohan, why weren’t you afraid of me? Despite everything I did to you back then?”_

_“Likewise, Piccolo-san. Why were you kind to me even if you didn’t have to be? Your answer is as good as mine.”_

**-x-**

 

The truth is, he has never been able to come up with an answer to the question Gohan posed as an answer to his question… It just happened, and it just is. Just like that, they loved each other unconditionally.

Sometimes unanswered questions were the answers in itself; _an awakening_. It was then that he fully realized—and dared truly acknowledge—how much he needed Gohan too. How much he loved Gohan beyond words; beyond everything _– against all logic_.

Gohan was the only reason for his continued existence; his sole purpose for fighting and wanting to be strong. True, he defended the Planet Earth as a whole, but without Gohan in it, he knew there would be nothing left on Earth truly worth defending.

The Z-Senshi came to respect his intelligence and wisdom, but even so, he never allowed himself to entertain the idea that he was an indispensable member of their group. Gohan, on the other hand, never once believed that he was any less; his half-human friend was the only one who never gave up on him even in his worst times—even when he was *held hostage in the bowels of HFIL when any chance of rescue seemed futile.

**-x-**

_“I never would have become as strong as I am now if once upon a time a demon prince hadn’t deigned to teach a weak, snivelling, and cowardly little half-ling that real strength comes from the heart. **That it’s not about how strong you are… it’s about what you’re fighting for** …_

_“I’m not going to just stand here and let him die! I’m going to save him, no matter what!”_

 

**-x-**

_And you did, Gohan._

_More than you know._

 

**-x-**

 

“Piccolo-san! Magic off your jeans!”

Gohan’s urgent plea snapped the Namek out of his nostalgia.

Though this was something they’ve done more times than he could count by now, he still found it hard to believe that it was actually happening each time it did. The heightened level of happiness they shared whenever they were together was literally impossible to name.  

Piccolo complied to the request with a shaky flicker of his wrist. His elegant hand was lovingly kissed before being coaxed to flatten against the youth’s perfectly sculpted chest. Gohan then slid his own palms in between seductively long and sturdy thighs, gently pressing them apart.

“G-Gohan…! I think I—” Piccolo only managed to draw in enough breath, before a strangled gasp forces the wind out of him as he felt thick calloused fingers explore his warm wetness. “Ahnnggh!”

Gohan’s eyes glowed translucent green, caught in mid-ascension; unwavering intent in them as they held Piccolo’s half-masted, misted gaze. All the while his fingers did not lag in their movements; dipping in and coaxing more of his mate’s honey to flow out. It didn’t take long for the Super Namek’s hypersensitive opening to begin to swell and Piccolo was all too soon heaving breathless, eyes squeezed shut and unable to stay focused anymore. The half-breed was too mesmerized by the erotic look on his beloved’s face to process right away what he was trying to say; but as soon as he pulled out and brought the wet digits to his mouth to suck the sweetness with zeal, his eyes grew wild.

“Your ovulating!” he burst out.

Piccolo panted some moments more, sending small steam clouds in the slightly chilly room before he could gather enough sense to reply.

“Y-Yes…”

“You smell and taste much sweeter when you are…” Gohan commented, attractively lush brows furrowing in concentration as his fingers automatically sought that tight warmth again to resume stimulating his husband from deep inside.

Piccolo gasped, hips bucking involuntarily and fangs digging into his lower lip in an attempt to contain a violent whimper as those fingers hit his most sensitive spot in one particularly enthusiastic push. As expected, he could feel the boy’s temperature rising in the back of his reeling mind; the very symptoms of the demi-Saiyajin’s slipping control.

“G-Gohan! Y-your Ki…!” he somehow still managed to grit out.

Without giving any indication that he heard his love’s words, the raven-haired boy bent down to spread his thighs further apart, peeling the apron to one side to get a full view of his love’s most private parts. Piccolo turned his face the other way as he felt his cheeks burn madly, fangs drawing blood from his quivering lips, and fingers clawing into the couch.

Gohan then continued to touch and stimulate his lover there for some agonizing moments more, all the while intently watching his lover’s expression, thoroughly enjoying the feel of Piccolo’s wet, hot softness lathering and massaging his fingers before he finally stopped and withdrew. But as always, not wanting to let any of his beloved’s essence go to waste – he took his time licking the delicious nectar dripping from three of his fingers that had been eagerly intruding on his love’s searing entrance. He didn’t give Piccolo more time to recover and resumed wooing that tender gushing opening – only this time with his full mouth and tongue.

“Aahhnnghh!”

Piccolo’s body arched off the couch against his own volition but firm hands kept his hips pinned down; legs spread wide enough for Gohan to get all the access he needed, as he drove his lover into a frenzy of moans, whimpers, and shudders. The boy’s tongue relentlessly pelted and irritated the nub that was a hermaphroditic Namek’s most sensitive part, forcing it to throb and swell and become more visible until the slightest touch made his husband tremble and groan throatily, practically teetering at the precipice of delirium from sensory overload.

Gohan knew that even if it was similar in shape to a human male’s penis when aroused, its sensitivity was more comparable to that of a human female’s clitoris; and persistent as he was, he was still careful as he let his mouth travel over the beautiful pinkish-purple organ, his lips caressing with feather-light delicateness before taking it whole into his mouth and sucking; slowly, but forcefully. As he did so, his hand returned to the soaked blushing entrance below, building a rhythm in his thrusts until the narrow purple crevice had swollen and lubricated itself enough to accommodate three hefty fingers to the hilt. The demi-Saiyajin moaned at the sensations in his mouth and fingers: Piccolo’s soft wet heat squeezing him fiercely, and the now aggrandised length throbbing wildly inside his mouth. He only sucked more avidly as his own heavy arousal pulsed painfully within his restricting jeans.

With a stifled scream of his love’s name, Piccolo came long and hard (Gohan practically an expert at prolonging his mate’s orgasm by now; not relenting in his actions until Piccolo was spineless and limp, panting and magnificently spent beneath him). The Namek flushed and shivered as his mate continued to drink every drop of his dew and lick him clean.

Gohan finally resurfaced, his tongue still savouring the aftertaste of his love on his lips. He basked in the sight of his sated beloved, so pretty against the deep-violet couch, inert Ki thrumming all over his majestic Namekian body. He carelessly wiped his mouth with the back of his palm to kiss Piccolo, who was still much too dazed to respond. Cupping the Namek’s handsome face, he diligently lapped up the purple blood and saliva that had oozed down his chin; nursing the cuts on his lips where sharp fangs had ripped it.

“Piccolo-san,” the boy spoke up, his voice a low rasp, still heady with sex; but his Ki was regularizing and his Super Saiyajin form had already dissolved. “I want another baby…”

Impatient for a response, Gohan continued to shower his mate with wooing kisses as he waited. Soft presses to slightly parted lips soon trailed off to one side to worship a sensitive pointy ear with his tongue. Piccolo grunted weakly as jolts of electricity began to reignite a fire in his veins all over again.

“I would really love it if we had another baby, Piccolo-san…” The languid but tantalizing assault to his ear recommenced. When Piccolo remained speechless (mostly because he was still reeling from the powerful orgasm and blissfully disoriented in the afterglow), Gohan sat up on his lap, looking wistful. “Tulip-kun could be lonely.”

Piccolo squeezed his eyes and took a deep breath in another attempt to un-fog his mind. And deciding that he still didn’t have the wits about him to speak, he opted for a telepathic answer, ‘ _If you want another child that much, then—’_

“Really?!” The attractive youth’s face lit up so fast, it almost made Piccolo laugh (if he still wasn’t so physically drained). Instantly strong arms had encircled his neck, soft cheeks pressed against his. ‘ _I’m so happy, Piccolo-sama! Thank you!’_

_‘There is really no need for thanks… Isn’t that what married couples do?’_

“Yes… But I know how hard pregnancy is for you… I really wish you’d do *what you did to me in Ersatz Earth again so I could be the one to…” the words died in Gohan’s throat as his cheeks burned.

_‘I’m working on it.’_ Piccolo smiled, fangs and all.

“Piccolo-sama! You make me so happy!” Gohan chirped, planting a chaste kiss to the tip of that perfect button nose he was so fond of. “I’m going to take a shower, then we can have dinner! You are so appetizing, I’m famished!”

Before Piccolo had managed to fully sit up, Gohan was already by the door to their bedroom. The Namek rubbed his nape, only then beginning to fully recover from the mind-blowing high. He remembered Gohan’s own need, and he immediately voiced his concern.

_‘Gohan, you’re… uh. You’re still… do you need help?’_

_‘Oh yeah, I forgot… Bathe with me?’_ came the all-too-eager reply.

Piccolo marvelled at how three Earth years worth of marital intimacy had not slowed their sex life one bit; Gohan’s energies when it came to lovemaking virtually inexhaustible. In many ways it was more rigorous than their actual training sessions, which would probably account for why they were both in such tiptop fighting shape. The latter he could still gain the upper hand at, but when it came to sex—something he was fairly new at—Gohan had the power to zap him of all his strength, especially when his Ki threatened to spiral out of control.

_‘Piccolo-san… I can hear your thoughts.’_ Gohan’s voice piped up with an obvious pout. _‘You should try being a half-Saiyajin_ _madly in love with a Namek too sexy for his own good…’_

“I don’t need to… For better or worse, I feel the same way about you.” Piccolo answered aloud, having reached the bathroom entrance just in time to see Gohan step into the tub and wheel around to face him, completely exposed in his need.

The Namek forgot to move for a few moments, mesmerized by those crimson stained cheeks against sun-kist, light-golden skin and the stunning physique before him usually hidden by modest clothing.

_‘Uhh, Piccolo-san, it won’t go away if you stare at it. You’re making it worse… especially looking like that.’_

_‘Ah. Suman.’_

Piccolo discarded the flimsy apron, leaving himself completely naked as well – much like their telepathic link that was hardly ever closed now, their minds entirely exposed to the other in one shared consciousness. It almost felt like being fused; except with Gohan, it was unbelievably comfortable.

His muscles still hummed from his earlier orgasms: the ghostly feeling of Gohan’s fingers moving inside him, that hungry mouth all over him, and the heated kisses; all sensations buzzing fresh in his mind, making him shiver inwardly. He took a deep breath as he closed the distance; anticipation coiling in his gut all over again. He moved in to kiss the boy who responded at once, more than welcomingly.

Gohan inhaled sharply as hands wrapped around his throbbing need and began massaging the length of. He groaned in appreciation—it felt so good!—as he was made to lean against the wall, the shower spray hitting them both and sending lukewarm water cascading down their bodies. His lover was efficient, and after only a few minutes, he came hard, with his face buried in his mate’s chest to muffle his (rather loud) cry of pleasure. When the convulsions had subsided, he weakly reached up to pull his Namek down for another leisurely kiss as they slid to the stone floor of tub they had been standing in; their lips still swollen and busted where not-so-accidental bites had ravished it earlier; their blood mixing into a sugary-spicy-coppery tang.

They sat there for a few minutes, Gohan’s naked body straddling Piccolo’s as they let their breathing regulate. The half-breed then sought out that sinewy flesh in the crook of his Namek’s neck and shoulder, sucking idly until he was calm and sated. When their pulses had normalized, Gohan’s voice resonated in Piccolo’s mind:

_‘I want a boy this time… I want to name him "Piccolo".’_

They untangled from each other as Piccolo slowly got up first with Gohan following suit. Having telepathic conversations during their daily activities—yes, even while bathing—was nothing unusual for them. Piccolo helped Gohan soap and scrub, while Gohan did the same for Piccolo (although mostly just with the scrubbing because he really didn’t need soap. Piccolo always smelled so good naturally; water alone did wonders to cleanse a Namek inside-out).

_‘I’m not sure he will like that name…’_

Gohan turned to look at his mate, fixing him with a meaningful and somewhat hurt glare. ‘" _Piccolo" is a beautiful name.’_

The Namek’s long fingers lightly brushed over the demi-Saiyajin’s forehead, sweeping aside wet strands of soaked ebony fringe from his face, tilting his chin upward slightly, and his thumb caressing the boy’s lower lip with feather touches as he replied matter-of-factly, ‘ _So is "Gohan".’_

The boy wrinkled his nose despite his blushing cheeks. ‘ _Not nearly as wonderful as "Piccolo".’_

“We aren’t exactly disagreeing on anything here, are we?” voiced the taller of the two.

“No… I guess not.” Gohan chuckled.

_‘Why don’t we ask him when he’s conceived?’_

Gohan smiled brightly. ‘ _My thoughts exactly.’_

After rinsing under the shower spray where they felt the pressing need to kiss some more, they both stepped out of the tub. Piccolo telekinetically wrapped a towel around Gohan, and then magically dried his body off before restoring a suitable domestic garb on himself.

 

**-x-**

 

The countdown to the eve of Christmas was quietly spent outdoors in their garden beneath the starry night (which was warmer than it should have been—just the right temperature for cosy cuddling, in fact—thanks to Piccolo’s magic) as their modest Christmas Eve dinner was promptly consumed. Gohan curled up snugly atop Piccolo while said Namek’s back, in turn, was sprawled comfortably on a cosy divan he conjured; both of them bundled in each other’s bodily heat while further cocooned in multiple layers of quilts and comforters.

They sleepily watched the fireworks display in the boundless and distant horizon, catching sight of several shooting stars higher up the dark clouds while they did. Gohan remarked with a yawn that maybe it was time to wish back the moon that Piccolo had obliterated when he was a child. Piccolo responded that he wasn’t sure if that was wise just yet since Gohan had recently grown back his tail *when he transformed on E2…

Both of them had dozed off under the starlit sky before they could come to an agreement on the topic, dreaming a shared dream of a fuzzy Oozaru and a giant Super Namek wrestling in the barren wastelands of their childhood under a big bright full moon…

 

**End of the first half.** **  
**Continued in the second half…****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***away for three Earth years** \- An event that took place in **“Chronicles of the Intergalactic Ersatz Games”** (a story of mine yet to be published).
> 
>  ***lapis lazuli** \- I have seen many official posters of Piccolo with blue eyes! I decided to mix this with his canon red eyes. Therefore, his eyes are naturally translucent red-violet in my headcanon canon (hehe). The blue colour is either a mutation triggered or a natural ataraxic state (you'll find out which in stories of mine that precede this--some of which have yet to be published).
> 
>  ***guardian demon** \- I first read this in (one of my most favourite GohanxPiccolo stories of all!) **“Another Horizon” by Tanta Green** ; and I fell in love with it so much! that I decided to adopt it as my headcanon moniker for him too.
> 
>  ***Asteroid E2** \- Is a place I created, which will be explored in my upcoming story: **“Chronicles of the Intergalactic Ersatz Games”**
> 
>  ***HFIL incident** – Takes place in **“Upside-Down Inside-Out”** (yet to be published).
> 
>  ***recent fiasco** \- An event in **“The Other Half of My Soul”** (also still unpublished).
> 
>  ***Tulip-kun/Tulip Daimaoh Son** \- Piccolo  & Gohan’s biological daughter. An original (derivative) character I created. She will make a proper debut in **“Chronicles of the Intergalactic Ersatz Games”**. Although, she's already made prominent appearances in my other published series: **["Umarete Yokatta"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10210631)**. 
> 
> ***Bloomer-san** \- I honestly don't know why everyone ended up using "Bulma". "Buruma" is actually the Japanized pronunciation of the English word: "Bloomer" (again, a kind of female undergarment). Any educated bilingual English-Japanese speaker would *not* call her "Bulma" but "Bloomer". 
> 
> ***E2** \- Short for "Ersatz Earth" in the name "Asteroid E2".
> 
>  ***onegai** \- In this context, it means "please". But in Japanese it can also literally mean, “please grant my wish”. 
> 
> ***Suman** \- Compressed version of, "sumimasen" which means "sorry". (Somewhat informally formal, mehehe. n_n;;)
> 
>  ***chibi** \- Japanese for “small” or “child”; popular fan lingo for super deformed cute-fied drawings.
> 
>  ***held hostage** – From **“Upside-Down Inside-Out”**.
> 
>  ***what you did to me in Ersatz Earth** – Another event in **“Chronicles of the Intergalactic Ersatz Games”**.
> 
>  ***when he transformed** – Also an event yet to be published.


	2. Second Half

_The giant Super Namek grabbed the fuzzy Oozaru from behind…_

“Gohan.”

_The Oozaru, enraged by the ambush, flipped the giant Super Namek, pinning him to the ground…_

“Mmnnggh… Just… five more minutes…”

_The giant Super Namek moaned as the fuzzy Oozaru bit him by the scruff of his neck while he rutted against his thigh…_

“You said that an hour ago.”

_But in the middle of what was supposed to be passionate primal sex, the Super Namek started going on about how the Oozaru’s fearsome mother would go berserk if he didn’t—_

_“—Wake up, this instant!”_

“Mm… no… for Dende-sama’s sake… I was just getting to the good part, Piccolo-san…!”

Piccolo snorted. “It’s Christmas morning. Your mother is expecting us. And there is not going to be anything ‘good’ about it if we keep her waiting. Besides, Tulip-kun will be—”

“Tulip-kun!” Gohan finally shot up from the sheets. “That’s right…”

The Namek smirked, zapping away the divan as soon as Gohan managed to separate his sleepy fine ass from it. He tidied the rest of the things and proceeded to follow the boy inside.

At the doorway, Gohan reached up to peck his cheek. “Mm, you bathed without me already?”

“I haven’t.”

“Damnit, Piccolo-san! You always smell so good. Grr, my super squeaky-clean Namek.”

Gohan chuckled when Piccolo scowled upon receiving a hearty butt squeeze to go with the compliment.

 

**-x-**

 

They were settled around the Christmas tree some minutes later, flanked by a colossal pile of presents.

It was the first peaceful and proper Christmas celebration they’ve managed to have on Earth after they became “celebrity superheroes” some three years ago, and the flood of gifts gave them a quite the start when it first burst out of the Hoi-Poi capsule that Trunks and Goten had delivered the previous morning.

“Most of these are from fans,” Gohan mused.

To which Piccolo crossed his arms and huffed, “As expected.”

“The lot of them your fans, Piccolo-san!” Gohan informed him as he began sorting out some.

When Piccolo only stared at the said gifts being piled before him as if genuinely at a loss what to do with them, Gohan set them aside and pulled out a big familiar package which he handed over.

“This one, is from me, Piccolo-san. Merry Christmas, my love.” Piccolo’s lips received a not-so-chaste kiss before his hands could close around the item.

_Finally, the controversial package._

Gohan waited with bated breath as nimble fingers patiently unwrapped the package—explaining that this one can’t be opened in Tulip’s presence—and pulled out a bright red fabric with dense and fuzzy white trimming.

“Gohan…” was all Piccolo managed to say when he realized what it was.

“Wear it for me?” Gohan pleaded with puppy eyes. “ _Onegai?_ ”

Piccolo held up what he now gathered was a Santa Claus outfit, only it was a one piece version; all coat and no pants.

“You want me to cross-dress as a female Santa, this time?”

The last few times it was easy enough: Torn skinny jeans; extremely tight-fitting butler uniform; and well… maybe that one time with the lingerie when Gohan was drunk as a fish wasn’t that easy. How women could stand scratchy, skimpy, lacy underwear that offered so little coverage was beyond him.

Gohan nodded, cheeks reddening.

“I don’t think this will even fit,” Piccolo grumbled.

“You can fix it with your magic if it doesn’t, but I wanted it to be a really tight fit so…!” Gohan had blurted it out so unabashedly that he drew back a little, scratching his cheek as he looked sideways.

Piccolo couldn’t help but gape when he saw that the coat was very short—too short—to pass off as a suitable lower garment. And when worn with the belt, the split would conveniently be situated in the middle of his thighs leaving him bare where he should be most covered (as far as decency was concerned, which was obviously the opposite of what Gohan was aiming for).

“I’m really pushing the boundaries of your love for me, aren’t I?” Gohan said in a tiny voice, eyes meekly searching his partner’s.

Piccolo met those eyes, and he couldn’t help but be disarmed by the boy’s innocently blushing face. Really, they were now a married couple with one child, but they were still very much kids at heart. But only when they were in each other’s company did they feel truly free to be.

“There are no boundaries,” the Namek plainly stated.

“Piccolo-sama…!” Gohan’s eyes gleamed besotted. “I lo—” But an elegant green finger stopped his words short. Piccolo held his gaze; expression uncharacteristically expressive.

“Gohan, I love you. And if this will make you happy…”

“Yes! Oh, it will, Piccolo-sama! Anything you do makes me happy!”

“Right.” Piccolo’s voice was muffled under the bear hug he was suddenly being crushed beneath. “So, does this count as my gift to you?”

An enthusiastic nod.

“It comes with a pair of moss-green high socks that will really compliment the lovely colours of your skin!” Gohan held up the said article after scooping it out from the package. Then he cleared his throat awkwardly as he added, “And uhh, err… lacy panties.”

“What?!”

“I know you hate it but just this one more time, _onegai_? It’ll come right off after you wear it anyway!” Gohan was kneeling in front of his husband now, this time flashing the cutest kitty-doe-eyes he could muster. “You’re just too beautiful, it would be a shame if you didn’t…!”

When Piccolo’s shoulders finally slumped in resignation, Gohan crawled onto his lap, cupped that lovely face he adored so much, and brought their lips together.

The kiss was short but enough to make them light-headed. Gohan made sure to punctuate the gesture with another grateful hug.

Only then did he begin to unbutton Piccolo’s shirt and unbuckle his belt, following with the buttons of his pants—pulling it down and waiting until his towering lover had stood up and stepped out of it—before standing up himself with the red and white-trimmed fabric in his hands. And without another word nor quibble, Piccolo allowed himself to be dressed…

The garment was slid through Piccolo’s arms and around his shoulders just fine; but the handsome demi-Saiyajin sensually bit down on his lower lip when even after several gentle and not-so-gentle tugs, the material still came up short by a centimetre up front.

“You’re so big, Piccolo-san,” he more of moaned than said.

Piccolo took that as his cue. He flicked his wrist and the garment loosened just enough for Gohan to do up the few buttons that barely covered his chest and secure the belt buckle snugly around his impossibly sexy, narrow waist.

Gohan stepped back to survey his husband, and Piccolo tried not to feel so self-conscious, even if his chest was practically bare and just as screaming naked from halfway his hips down.

Gohan said nothing but his flushed expression and shallow breathing said more than enough… _His half-breed husband was clearly very pleased._

“Now, you… err… do you want to put on the high socks and panties yourself?”

Piccolo nodded mutely, shocking himself by actually starting to feel into the mood of things.

Probably the biggest kick he was getting out of these “dress-up” situations that he was occasionally subjected to was Gohan’s reactions itself. The idea of someone being so in love with him was one of the world’s greatest mysteries to Piccolo, made even more unbelievable by the fact that the one who loved him was the one he held dearest of all. Try as he may, he couldn’t fathom what he had done to deserve such happiness.

And so, Piccolo just dealt with it the way he usually did—the best way he knew he could: he focused on Gohan and Gohan’s happiness. But then, Gohan always defined what happiness was for him simply enough:

_I just want to be with Piccolo-san, forever._

And so, this. Now. Three years of unbroken, profound intimacy hadn’t dampened his exhilaration at seeing Gohan this happy, and even more so– at being the reason behind it. If anything, he realized that his greatest happiness would be to have this special power and privilege forever. His rambling thoughts were swept aside as the need to voice an important concern took precedence…

“Do you want me to put it on Namekian style, or human style?” Piccolo’s cheeks burned. The question felt so absurd on his lips.

He swore Gohan almost lost himself right then and there considering the answer. His lively brown eyes glazed over and he unconsciously gnawed on his knuckle as he pondered what seemed to him like the answer to world peace.

Piccolo’s antennae twitched as he endeavoured to keep his own mounting desire in check. Gohan often accused him of being “a tease”, but ever since Piccolo came to know what ‘being a teaste’ meant, he felt that he was just as much of a victim to the Gohan’s charms himself, and without the boy even knowing it.  Kamisama knows that despite his commendable self-control, his sexually-awakened body responds of its own will to Gohan’s every little unwitting “teasing”, _very keenly._

Piccolo may have only realized that he was _indeed_ sexually attracted to the demi-Saiyajin of late, but long before that, he already found Gohan’s appearance not to shabby for an Earthling—actually, even easy on his indifferent Namekian eyes. Then as his childhood friend bloomed into a young adult, Piccolo became more and more aware of the fact that Gohan wasn’t only one relatively physically pleasing Earthling to behold, but in fact, one _very_ good-looking one—if not flat-out gorgeous.

But because there wasn’t an iota of vanity on the boy, Piccolo suspected that Gohan was completely clueless as to how appealing he could be if he wanted to be. If the number of admirers he had wasn’t proof enough, he was willing to bet that none among their Z-Senshi circle would contend the fact that Son Gohan Jr. was perhaps the most charming and attractive Son of all. Then again, his occasional inner resonances of Kami and Nail would chid him that his opinion of Gohan was likely an over-glorified one given that he was madly in love with the boy…

“Human style, please?” the half-breed finally decided.

_Okay. Human style._

Otherwise known as the “harder but sexier way”. So he had to do it “sexy”, which he still really had no clue how to go about. But Gohan seemed to be enjoying so far, so what the HFIL…

Piccolo swallowed thickly as he picked up the lacy purple panty first. It looked so tiny in his hands, kept together by almost gossamer-like threads that he was sure was going to rip. He carefully gets it past both his feet… Up his ankles and over his knees… And with some difficulty– up his thighs, and surprisingly, the fabric _was_ very durable, but as he had surmised, it was stretched to almost past its limits by the time he managed to get it where it was supposed to be – right below his hips and just barely covering his ass.

He shifted uncomfortably as he felt Gohan’s eyes boring into him; and for some reason (most likely, momentary insanity brought about by the folly of the situation) was even feeling particularly brazen, enough to meet the boy’s searing hot stare. Without breaking eye contact, he picked up the left sock and deftly rolled it up his heel to his ankle and calf, before pulling it above his knee as far up as it would go. He did the same with the right side…

His “gift” for his husband was finally complete; and despite the jitters, he plucked the courage to stand his full height in the most dignified manner his ensemble permitted. Gohan’s jaw fell open immediately and almost slid off the couch to the floor with him as he tried to get up; the tent in his pants unabashedly begging for attention like an elated puppy.

Piccolo was pulled by the wrist and made to lay on the couch where Gohan pushed down his shoulders gently until his back and head were cushioned by the pillows propped against his corner, with one leg made to drape daringly over the backrest of the couch and the opposite leg half hanging off the edge of the seat, foot on the floor. At that point, both of them were barely breathing from hushed excitement.

“Comfy, love?”

“I’m wearing skimpy, lacy underwear two sizes too small…” Piccolo countered with a cheeky scowl. “What do you think?”

“But Piccolo-san,” Gohan allowed his gaze to wander over the said lingerie that hugged his darling’s most sensitive parts, quite delectably. “You look like a _goddess_ in it.”

Piccolo merely narrowed his eyes at his husband, flushing to the tips of his antennae.

 _‘Bear with me just a little more…’_ Gohan purred through their telepathic link, lips already busy wooing his mate’s. ‘ _I’ll make it all worth it, real soon.’_

Piccolo grunted into the kiss, lips parting of their own accord as Gohan tongued his fangs; too flustered at the moment to think up of a retort or remember to kiss back.

‘You look and taste… so… mmm… * _orgasmic_!’

Piccolo stifled a throaty groan, as strong hands ran up his inner bare thighs. It was easy to see that Gohan couldn’t decide if he wanted to keep kissing Piccolo in the lips or watch his erotic expression as he squirmed against his exploring hands. He soon settled for the latter and sat back to touch and enjoy the view.

“Make it tighter,” Gohan whispered, pulling at the hem of the coat barely covering his hips.

With a dark blush, Piccolo closed his eyes, wondering faintly in the back of his lust-fogged mind if condoning Gohan’s fixations was the right thing to do—being the more adult of them.

But he wasn’t exactly averse to the idea himself, so he obliged. Bringing a shaky hand over his abdomen, he willed the fabric around his body to tighten, and so it did.

Gohan’s breath hitched, and the hand teasing over the lacy fabric in between his legs seemed to grow hotter as it coaxed his male organ to swell to its full size and strain against the tight garment; while his other hand travelled lower and pressed circles over his moist female opening, coaxing more wetness to blossom from it.

At first, Gohan was never one for control and self-restraint when it came to sex with him; something easily forgivable, considering how he’s been desisting everything else he wanted for the most part of his life. But he’s matured greatly during their relationship—more than can be expected from your typical strong-willed eighteen-year-old, madly in love, hybrid Saiyajin. Now he was easily able to hold back and take it slow (when he really wanted to), even choosing to put his sexual needs only second to his beloved’s (sometimes even foregoing it entirely); all that, without losing an ounce of hungry want for his mate.

Piccolo on the other hand, was all for whatever Gohan wanted ( _most of the time_ ); perfectly content at whatever setup his love wanted when it came to the sexual aspect of their relationship. And though he came to realize his need for Gohan was just as real, he rarely ever asserted those physical needs; being the one who exercised more willpower over his emotions. In fact, anyone who knew him would readily attest that Piccolo was indubitably the most disciplined of all the Z-Senshi. No one knew this better than Gohan; and nothing thrilled him more than the idea of slowly breaking down all of Piccolo’s ever-present immaculate composure– _until he was a writhing sexy sweaty mess._

Ironically, that goal was exactly what drove Gohan to exercise so much control over himself each time. Eyes blazing with a concentration truly formidable as he watched his lover’s countenance become enraptured with mounting pleasure, slowly filling with tell-tale signs of teetering at the very precipice of control: the soft clipped breaths through shiny lips; the rapid rising and falling of his chest; beads of sweat cascading down his temple; fingers fisting and un-fisting at his sides; the arousal-sedated eyes and fluttering eyelashes; and fangs pressing into green flesh, threatening to break skin.

Time and again, only the sight, smell, and sound of Piccolo losing himself and giving in to the torturous ecstasy could make the dormant fire in Gohan’s core erupt into a raging inferno. Even if Nameks had heightened poikilothermic bodies and were essentially impervious to the elements, he could feel Piccolo’s body temperature rising dangerously with his own; the Namek’s usually perfectly tempered Ki flaring ever so slowly – evidence that he was still valiantly hanging on to that area of control but slipping fast along with the rest of his being that was quickly succumbing to the torment.

A sheen of sweat glistened like second skin all over him now, body convulsing and rigid as it arched off the couch, responding to Gohan’s burning touches of its own volition.

“G-Gohan…! Ahhnngh…!”

Gohan continued caressing the rapidly growing bulge in-between Piccolo’s trembling thighs. By now, it had grown to its full size—not coming short of one’s expectations, given the Namek’s daunting height. It was putting the delicate fabric through its paces, pulsing and twitching in his hand. With one last tender squeeze to the red outlined head, Gohan finally gave in to staring down at his husband’s proud manliness straining against the lacy purple underwear.

“Piccolo-san…” he said, breathless.

So love-struck was the teen that he barely realized how undone he had become himself; his own erection a dull throbbing ache begging for attention somewhere at the back of his mind.

But between his need and feasting his senses on the sight of his beloved, the latter always won. Gohan’s entranced fingers tugged downward at the almost transparent item, and he felt his body thrum madly at the sight of Piccolo’s thickness set free. He let go of the fabric and it snapped back underneath the proud length, pushing it even further up into air.

Piccolo’s lip quivered as fangs bit hard into it; gasping and groaning as his sensitivity was exposed to the nipping frost. Gohan’s throat had gone dry and his chest constricted to bursting. He could almost feel his husband’s female region calling out to him. He wondered faintly how hard it must be, to feel so aroused in two focal points (it was hard enough to have one).

But despite whatever kind of unbearable torment that must be, Piccolo endured it most of the time; never one to be aggressive about it. Even after his initiation into married life with a endlessly sexually-charged demi-Saiyajin for a husband, he remained innocent, patient, and unbelievably selfless. He would match Gohan when it came to kissing, but never intentionally hurt or force himself (without Gohan’s consent or insistence). Piccolo always let Gohan take the lead, and he would simply follow.

Which again, ironically, only made Gohan crave to meet Piccolo’s needs more than his own. After a lifetime of friendship and several years of marriage, Gohan had come to realize that even if he had long surpassed everyone in strength, there was one thing that none of them, including himself, could ever surpass Piccolo in: and that was Piccolo’s willingness for self-sacrifice out of love for Gohan. And this was one of the core reasons Gohan’s heart was always so full of gratefulness and sincere will to enforce Piccolo’s every little secret happiness…

Which was why even if he declared that this little game they were playing was _his_ Christmas present, he really meant to be the one to give his husband the _best, most memorable_ present he could manage to give. He wanted to gift back every single thing that Piccolo so unselfishly gave him every single time– _tenfold_.

Thick, calloused fingers went down and slipped under the tight underwear, finding the wet crevice there and pressing in two fingers at once; the now overflowing moistness allowed the intruding digits to stretch the tight passage and slide smoothly all the way in.

The sensation of suddenly being filled caused Piccolo’s head to snap back, eyes scrunching as loud moans rumbled from his chest carrying Gohan’s name. Said lover bent down to kiss Piccolo’s chest, trailing wet lips down to his abdomen; all the while forcing his fingers in deeper until it hit that spot that made the Namek’s hips buck involuntarily and more guttural groans spill from his lips. His jaw went slack and drool pooled at the corners of his lips as his helpless entrance continued to be breached.

The sound of slick sliding and slapping, interspersed with his lover’s ragged gasps for air became Gohan’s mantra. Purposefully he pressed and pushed against that bundle of nerves to make Piccolo repeatedly cry out as his was racked by involuntary tremor after another.

The Namek had attempted to bite his lips shut several times in an attempt to reign in his voice but it was no use. Not when the demi-Saiyajin’s tongue resumed its worship of his feverishly aroused body; not when those adroit fingers pumped into his opening like an engine by now, pulling back and pushing in all the way with blinding urgency. When Gohan’s lips slid around his freed member, engulfed it almost halfway in, and sucked– Piccolo knew his mind was lost.

“Aahhh! G-Gohaaannggnhh!”

At that same moment, the tips of Gohan’s hair and fingers began to spark and crackle; bioelectricity coursed through him as he continued to over-stimulate Piccolo’s most sensitive organ with his mouth and his jabbing fingers went past the border of human speed to inhuman.

Piccolo’s noises escalated to uninhibited sobs and whimpers; his hips lifted perilously off the couch, and his towering, sculpted body became taut as a bow as he was forced over the edge without further prequel. Gohan buried his fingers as deep as it would go then, prolonging his mate’s orgasm and tasting the Namek’s powerful release after another down his throat. He sucked without relenting until every last drop had been swallowed; until all the tension and after-orgasm tremors had completely subsided from Piccolo’s shivering body.

Gohan released his partner’s now flaccid member and wiped his mouth with his free hand, shuddering at the sensation of how tightly his fingers were still clamped inside Piccolo’s pulsing walls; the sensation of pumping madly into that wet delectable heat still resonating in his consciousness, enough to make his own need throb wildly. He sat back and waited until the other had somewhat regulated his breathing enough to relax, before very slowly pulling out his deeply impaled fingers.

Piccolo groaned at how tender and raw his insides felt after being subjected to such mind-numbing friction, and even if he couldn’t muster the strength to open his eyes just yet, he could clearly picture his lover putting those fingers that had been so deep inside him into his mouth. What he did not see, he confirmed with what he heard; and he knew all too well by now what was coming next…

His thighs were still unsteady from the tiny aftershocks of his powerful climax when he felt a warmth near that tenderness in the apex of his thighs, and that familiar tongue greedily lapping at his overflowing juices. He grit his teeth to keep from squirming and screaming at the mind-blowing, pleasurable torment.

 _“Amazing,”_ he heard the boy murmur after some moments. _And bloody hell, did it tickle to have him talk right there!_

 _‘Gohan,’_ he mentally reproached.

 _‘Oh, sorry!’_ came the boy’s embarrassed telepathic reply. _‘It’s just… It’s so amazing! How it always becomes so small again… I can’t imagine how I manage to fit in you every time.”_

Piccolo sighed weakly. Though unforgiving when it came to exacting pleasure from him, Gohan was never one to make demands about his own needs. He grunted and gathered what was left of his scattered wits to use a little bit of magic.

Gohan gasped as the December frost was suddenly nipping at his bare back. By now the rush of wind from nowhere was a familiar feeling: Piccolo had zapped off his clothes. “Waahh! It’s cold, Piccolo-saa-mmmnnggh!”

All thoughts of the cold were abruptly chucked out of his mind and replaced with nothing but pleasurable waves of warmth as his lips were captured in forceful kisses and his body enveloped by powerful arms that pulled him close onto his mate’s lap.

Not to be outdone, Gohan straddled his husband and caressed Piccolo’s neck wholeheartedly as their mouths continued to play in one another’s. He hiccupped into the kiss as he felt elegant but powerful hands around his hips lift him slightly, and one of those hands move in front to touch his hardness, guiding it into that heavenly—and still very tender—opening.

Gohan gasped and looked up worry crossing his face faintly but was quickly replaced by a grimace, as Piccolo succeeded in impaling himself around Gohan’s hard tip—and with one firm push at his buttocks, was all too soon already halfway inside.

“Aahhh!” Gohan cried out in shock at the sudden dizzying pleasure. “P-Pic…colo… sannggh!”

Piccolo’s lips were set in a hard line. True, they’ve done it a hundred times over but his female opening always returned to it’s normal, barely visible size after some minutes; which is why no matter how often they did it, it always still hurt like hell.

But sometimes it didn’t hurt as much like now, when he took Gohan’s rock-hard thickness into his still raw and splayed insides. It was a different composition of pleasure and pain; one that made his teeth chatter and fireworks dance behind his tightly shut eyes.

They panted for a few moments trying to catch up to their pulses and regain some balance. Piccolo gasped for breath and struggled to steady his shaking thighs; Gohan, meanwhile, was reigning in all the concentration he could muster just to keep from coming right there and then as he felt his lover’s fantastic tightness madly pulsate and greedily engulf him.

The teenager’s arms snaked around his husband and he once again, gently licked then suckled the dip at the base of Piccolo’s neck; an action that never failed to tranquilise him and rebalance his Ki.  

Gohan licked the purple bruise that was left on his love when he was finished, then leaned in to whisper in Piccolo’s ear, *“Piccolo-san _dai suki_ … _Enryonaku itadakimasu._ ”

Piccolo braced himself. And though Gohan started gently enough, all gentleness was quickly dashed into the first few minutes, quickly becoming engulfed in the heat of the moment. Piccolo’s stifled moans underneath the pillow he had smothered into his face only drove the steadfast youth to plunge deeper, harder, and faster; knowing by now that despite Piccolo’s cute innocence and reserved nature when it came to sex, that he was no weak damsel in distress and treating him as such would be an insult. To them, that was one of the best parts about their relationship: they didn’t need to hold back or be anything less than who they truly were; _they understood each other so well and fit together so perfectly._

“Piccolo-san…!” Gohan grunted breathlessly. “Don’t cheat!” He grabbed both of his husband’s wrists, forcing Piccolo to relinquish the pillow, revealing a sight that only filled his most secret and most depraved fantasies before, but was now regularly being impressed into his mind by reality.

His Namek husband was clearly being overtaken by pure pleasure: deeply coloured cheeks and scrunched up eyes, quivering lips that parted enticingly exposing sexy fangs, and his chest and abdomen sweat-slick and rippling with frantic breaths; and Piccolo was putting all of his remaining energy to resist losing himself to the sinful ecstasy. But he was losing the battle with every slam of his powerful lover’s girth to his most sensitive core.

Only he was allowed the honour of worshipping this wonderful creature before him so soulfully and intimately; only _he_ was given the privilege to be able to rile the great and mighty Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. this way.

Gohan never failed to thank the universe, all the deities and all the forces that be for every second of his waking life for this thing so precious that he was blessed with; so precious that the mere thought of it always brought tears to his eyes.

“Piccolo-san…” Gohan panted softly, “I love you!”

Before he could garner a response, he captured those succulent green lips, thirstily drinking its every moan, sob, and gasp; which blended with his own breathless moans and chants of his dearest beloved’s name. Complimenting all that in the background were the equally seductive sounds of hard smacking against slick flesh; as spaces continued to be filled and emptied and filled again and again to bursting, causing the heat in their bellies to expand faster and faster, igniting spark after another in their veins that were threatening to combust all at once, all too soon.

Piccolo’s wrists remained pinned beneath his lover’s iron grip as Gohan finally went overboard and released deep inside him in endless volcanic spurts. His lungs erupted in a guttural cry as Piccolo followed shortly, gripped by series of mind-numbingly explosive orgasms that caused his buried member to be further clinched like a vacuum and drained unmercifully dry of his essence. When they had both exhausted each other’s climax, their postures collapsed and their bodies slumped down like dead weight. They heaved in harsh breath after another, unable to think nor talk as they waited out the aftershocks until only the whitewash of their afterglow hummed a white noise in their minds and systems; leaving them, for some silent minutes, peacefully content and delightfully sated.

“Piccolo-san…” Gohan begun when he felt the other’s heartbeat had regulated somewhat, not lifting his head from the firm but cosy chest he had fallen into. He loved listening to Piccolo’s heart, it made him feel even more deeply connected to his mate when he did.

Piccolo only grunted in acknowledgement. And Gohan felt his belly stir at the vibrations that travelled from his ear to his chest and everywhere else; his love’s every little noise always triggered impossible tingling sensations all over his being.

“Are you alright?”

Another soft grunt.

Gohan lifted his chin and peered up at him. “Honest?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Piccolo retorted under his breath with a flick of his finger to the teenager's forehead.

“Ow!” Gohan rubbed the sore spot gingerly. “You weren’t holding back at all!”

Piccolo couldn’t help but snicker at him, before moving to sit up. But then the action was stopped short by powerful hands clamping his wrists down on either side all over again, effectively allowing the owner of those hands to trap his lips in a vengeful tongue-filled kiss.

Now Piccolo was certain they were going to be late…

And his mother-in-law, Chi-chi, was going to be glaring daggers at him all day. _Again._

 

Some two hours later after having bathed together, at last, they were fully dressed and ready to leave.

Piccolo’s hand on the door latch is stopped short as his fine-looking companion slips in-between him and the exit, purposely loosening Piccolo’s necktie a shake and opening one more of the topmost buttons of the Namek’s pristine white shirt so that a bigger portion of his strong chest was now visible for everyone to appreciate. All in all, the modification gave Piccolo a careless and ruggedly sexy appearance that his demi-Saiyajin husband so approved of.

Piccolo could only face-palm. Obviously the boy didn’t care what impression that gave his mother of him. Not that he did. But he didn’t want to seem like he was provoking the tempestuous woman either…

It might have easily been cause for tension between them (if they were that kind of couple). But Gohan was no longer a toddler of four, and by now, he had a good argument at the ready for every issue to do with his mother that could possibly arise.

 _They were grown-ups now—and married ones at that, with a lovely and secretly very powerful daughter. They were licensed to make their own decisions and be what they wanted as long as they weren’t hurting anyone._ At least, that was pretty much what Piccolo knew Gohan would say if he voiced his minor concern. (Not that he wasn’t supporting Gohan and his somewhat rebellious trend of reasoning…)

It was Piccolo’s turn to pull Gohan aside before the boy could turn the door’s handle and head out. Long graceful green fingers hovered over Gohan’s lip, radiating a ticklish warmth that the young demi-Saiyajin easily recognized as healing Ki.

“Wow,” Gohan uttered as the soreness from his injured lips dissipated, feeling the cuts and bruises healing impeccably. “You’ve been practising your healing too!”

“Yes,” Piccolo said simply, a blush ghosting over his cheeks. “Your mother and the others always give me looks of disapproval when they see your lips cut so badly.”

“But I like it.” Gohan grabbed his wrist, saying with a firmness in his hoarse voice, “I love it when I get cut by your fangs. You know I do.”

“Shut up, and don’t talk anymore. You scream too loud and now you’ve lost your voice again. Let me heal your throat next.”

Gohan blushed scarlet and retaliated via their mind link, _‘I can’t help being more vocal about how good it feels… Whose fault do you think that is?’_

_‘You’re welcome. Now be still.’_

_‘Piccolo-san…’_

_‘Mn?’_

_‘Aishiteimasu yo.’ (I love you, you know.)_

_‘Gohan…’_

Piccolo retracted his hand tentatively as the boy’s grip tightened around his wrist. He had almost managed to completely heal Gohan’s lip—only a tiny puncture remained, which Gohan peered down at and ran a tongue over, very slowly; a suggestive smile playing at the corner of his lips to match the lustful gleam in his eyes. Piccolo swallowed as he followed Gohan’s gaze upward.

Mistletoe.

_Oh crud. Who placed that there?_

Gohan’s palms flattened on Piccolo’s chest, tangling themselves in the now lose necktie, rumpling it terribly and causing the Namek’s brows to furrow as he is pulled down to accept a naughty kiss.

He moaned loudly as Gohan tilted for a better angle that allowed his tongue to intrude more enthusiastically, coaxing his own to respond with mild suckles to his lips and a few playful snaps of his jaw. And of course, the boy made sure to snag his fangs and bite at his lower lip as reassertion of his earlier pronouncement.

Piccolo groaned, jolts of pain and pleasure shorted his brain and made his vision spin in heady arousal even as he squeezed his eyes shut, and—oh well, screw what Chi-chi and the rest of the Z-Senshi, or the rest of the world for that matter—would think. _He_ _really secretly adored it when Gohan was pushy_.

_‘Gohan.’_

The boy was sucking very ardently at the new gash on his lip that he made himself, and Piccolo’s eyelids were heavy from the pleasurable albeit painful sensation.

“A-are you turning into a vampire on me or something?” he muttered when his bloody lip was finally released, a strand of saliva and rich purple blood still connected their lips.

“Is there a vampire that only feeds on ‘Piccolo-san’s? If so, then yes!” Gohan flashed his most boyish grin and leaned up again to lick the bloody cut on his mate’s lip until it was dry. He waited as Piccolo in turn, licked the self-inflicted cuts on his lips, but gasped when that mouth strayed and kisses were trailed down to his neck, pulling forth an unreserved moan through his battered vocal chords.

 _‘Don’t strain your voice,’_ Piccolo reprimanded.

 _‘Ehh…??’_ Gohan pouted. ‘ _Easier said than done, mister!’_

Piccolo only grunted gruffly to that before resuming his kisses, and Gohan brought his hands to press hard over his mouth in an effort to seal in the noises bubbling forth from his chest.

When he thought he couldn’t bear the assault of that mouth and tongue anymore—the tantalizingly sharp fangs and impossibly soft lips on his skin—and was about to cry uncle, Piccolo finally relented and swept aside the boy’s hands to fix his collar.

Gohan sighed in relief, a satisfied smirk filling his still flushed handsome face. He gave a childishly giddy little titter as he ran a finger over both their abused lips, “Much better.”

Hell, Piccolo didn’t mind. All he cared about was making Gohan as happy can be. But he was still trying to get the hang of the whole “socialising aspect” and “extended family” part of being married and would really rather avoid becoming the object of their friends' wild imaginings as much as possible. It was so easy to picture Gohan and him kissing so roughly when prompted by their plainly visibly abused lips that they appeared to flaunt so indecently during their gatherings. At least, Gohan most certainly did. To anyone on the outside, it was a no-brainer to conclude that he—spawn of a megalomaniac demon who tried to conquer the earth once upon a time—was to blame for the adverse influence on Gohan’s behaviour and continually growing rebellious streak. However, if they would only stop imposing what they wanted to see of the boy and actually saw him for what he truly was, they wouldn’t be so shocked to find that this was how Gohan has always been; and that the only thing he was truly guilty of was tolerating it.

Gohan’s raspy chuckle snapped Piccolo out of his thoughts, which he defensively silenced with a glare.

_‘Sorry. It’s just that… your face… it’s so cute.’_

Piccolo sighed inwardly as he set down their hover car that he had levitated to the base of the mountain path and got into the driver’s seat to expertly starting the engine. (They opted to drive since they would be fetching Tulip and she wasn’t allowed to fly yet.)

_‘You’re sending everyone mixed signals.’_

_‘Hm?’_

_‘You say you want to keep your sex life private, but you’re practically painting a clear picture for everyone with our ravaged lips and your strained vocal cords.’_

_‘Oh, love…! You’re so adorable.’_

_‘Oh, am I? Well, you’re evading the subject.’_

Gohan laughed aloud, reaching out to pet his husband’s ear as he replied pensively, ‘ _I don’t know, Piccolo-sama. Maybe I do want them to know without me having to say anything. It’s more romantic and reckless that way… I’ve always wanted to shout out to the whole world how amazing a lover you are; and then watch everyone who ever doubted you sizzle with envy.’_

At that exact moment, the car lurched forward and braked.

“ _S-suman,_ ” came the Namek’s uncharacteristic flustered apology.

Gohan only chuckled some more, leaning in to kiss a pointy ear, adding a hearty lick inside the earlobe, and thoroughly enjoying how uncomfortable he was making his husband all over again. Admirably, Piccolo managed to keep it together this time, and his second attempt at bringing their vehicle into motion succeeds.

_‘I can’t wait to see Tulip-kun!’_

Piccolo’s lips tugged upward. The thought of seeing their daughter’s bright smile again after too many days of missing her was enough to quell his nerves of any discomfort. They had been gone for so long and couldn’t deprive Chi-chi of any more time to dote on her much awaited first grandchild, so he and Gohan ended up separated from their daughter quite often. Too often.

_‘I can’t imagine having a daughter more perfect.’_

They both fell silent for a few minutes of the drive. The calm scenery lulling their minds.

Their recent adventure on Asteroid E2 brought with it many revelations. An alternate reality where the Gohan of that time ended up marrying his classmate with whom he bore a daughter named Pan, weighed particularly heavy on Gohan’s mind. No matter how coolly Piccolo took the information, and no matter how much his faith in Gohan remained unswayed, sadly, he couldn’t say the same for himself. There were doubts planted, and he knew those doubts wouldn’t leave him be until he solved the mystery of that one reality of all realities where he didn’t end up choosing the one true love of his life.  

_The possibility certainly did exist but…_

Gohan has yet to meet his alternate self, but even so– he believed without a doubt that even if that version of him married someone else, he’d still be in love with Piccolo, as he knew he’d always be—no matter whatever which reality. Any other variation of him that went against that would just not be him anymore…

He was hell-bent on investigating—on finding the truth, but the Trunks of the future strongly advised against it that he was forced to concede… _Why, though…? What could possibly have happened in that reality that he would chose to marry someone other than the one he truly loved?_

_‘Gohan.’_

Piccolo’s deep soothing baritone was a welcome intrusion to his train of turbulent thoughts. He looked at his beloved who had his eyes on the road but an expression of concern unmistakable on his features.

_‘I love you… you know that, right?’_

Gohan blinked. Once. Twice… But his vision still blurred instantaneously as tears flooded his eyes.

“Piccolo-san…”

 

_I love you so much…_

_More than anything in the world._

 

**-x-**

 

*“ _Tadaima!_ ” Gohan called as he let himself inside the Son house.

And sure enough a lovely little girl with a mess of golden hair and a huge red ribbon trying valiantly to keep all of it in a neat ponytail came streaking out of nowhere, to throtte into her half-human father’s open arms.

“Papa!” Tulip practically shrieked under her breath, giggling uncontrollably as she was pummelled with kisses.

“Merry Christmas, princess! Oh! I missed you so much!”

“Really now, Gohan-cha! Look at you! You’re even thinner than when I last saw you!”

Piccolo relieved Gohan’s arms of their bouncing daughter as the tall youth bent down to kiss and hug his mother. “Hullo, Mother. I’ve missed you too. Merry Christmas. How’s Goten?”

“How do you think?”

Gohan forced a laugh. Really, his mother was becoming more and more sardonic of late. But he could see that she was happier than she’s ever been since his father’s death by the bright glow in her usually tired eyes.

“Daddy!!!” Tulip squeal-whispered into Piccolo’s ears as she burrowed deeper into his arms and giggled hysterically when he playfully bit down on her tiny arm.

“Piccolo!!!” Chi-chi shrieked, “Stop that! What a dreadful thing to do!”

The Daimaoh-Son family threesome froze.

Tulip spoke up first, gently but vehemently entreating: “Grandma, please, don’t be angry. It’s only pretend!” Latching on protectively to Piccolo’s neck. “My Daddy would never hurt me. I told you, he’s the nicest person in the whole world!”

Piccolo tried his best not to flinch at his daughter’s exaggerated appraisal.

“And besides, Grandma,” Tulip continued. “It’s not nice to shout. It hurts our ears, remember?”

Chi-chi was taken aback, momentarily disorientated by the reproach she received from the wise three-year-old, but she recovered at once, and merely turned to head back towards the kitchen telling them that lunch would be ready in ten minutes and that they should be washed up and seated at the dining table by then.

 

Lunch had Piccolo and Gohan seated across each other at the table; Tulip sat beside Piccolo facing Chi-chi who was next to Gohan. (Goten insisted on staying with Trunks at Capsule Corp until after that night’s party).

“So, what has my little angel been up to? Enjoying school so far?”

Tulip nodded energetically at Gohan as she scooped up a mushroom bun with her chopsticks.

Though initially apprehensive about sending their daughter to school at such a young age, Chi-chi eventually won the argument only upon the condition that if Tulip wasn’t happy with the arrangement, they’d take her out and home-school her instead.

Tulip’s aptitude for learning quickly accelerated her to the same grade as Goten’s, and it seemed that she was doing exceptionally well in making friends too. Overall, going to school was proving to be an enjoyable experience for her.

She had been animatedly telling her parents about her adventures in class, and was on the topic of their new classmate who was older than her by a couple of years who they initially thought was a boy because of her boyish haircut. Gohan stopped short at the mention of the girl’s name, and realized that Piccolo had picked up on the detail much earlier, as he had stopped spooning the whipped cream off his apple pie and was staring at their daughter in shock. _They couldn’t possibly have heard that name right, could they?_ Gohan might as well have been struck in the head with a wrecking ball.

“Black, short-cropped hair, and big dark brown eyes…” Gohan echoed barely above a whisper, as images of something that he heard before from Trunks from the future’s’ tales of his time travails resurfaced.

With unmistakable dread in his hoarse voice, he prompted, “T-Tulip-kun, what did you say the name of your new classmate was again…?”

The light-green-skinned child’s big, luminous-jade eyes looked up at her father from her apple pie.

“Pan! Her name is Pan Satan, Papa!”

Gohan and Piccolo exchanged glances, a million questions racing through their minds, but one coming to the forefront…

_If Pan existed in this reality even if Gohan never slept with anyone else but Piccolo, then that could only mean…_

 

_…That the Pan from that other reality must not be his alternate self’s real daughter either!_

 

 **The End(?)(Not really.)  
** (To be continued in my "You, Me & Time" series.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***orgasmic** \- Just a pun I incorporated to reference Team Four Star’s dub (which I love to bits!).
> 
>  ***Piccolo-san dai suki... enryonaku itadakimasu.** – "I really adore/love Piccolo-san..." Couldn't resist adding a little reference to and reminiscing of Gohan's "Piccolo-san Dai Suki" song. Also that moment in Majin Boo Saga when Goku tells Piccolo that Gohan adores him a lot ('umei no koto, de'suki dakara na'). The second part means something like, “I will gladly accept/partake, without reservations”. This is a polite (and formal) expression in Japanese that has no English equivalent.
> 
>  ***Tadaima!** \- Roughly equivalent to "I'm home!". A Japanese expression said whenever a member of the household returns after being away for a time being.
> 
>  **Personal Headcanon:**  
>  My headcanon about Piccolo’s ovulating cycles is that Piccolo ovulates only when needed (or when he’s “in the mood”), but would still need to “want”, or “will himself” to get pregnant for him to be able to bear child with another. This will be delved into more in my upcoming Retroverse instalments with which Piccolo becomes officially impregnated with Tulip. (Guhhhhssssshhh!) *♥︎*

**Author's Note:**

> As of today (2018/01/27), this story underwent another round of proof-reading & (not-so-)minor line changes since the last (2016/09/09) revision. Cheers! -Marie ||v^)b♥︎
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Dragon Ball/Z/GT/Xenoverse/Super** /etc. belong to their respective owners. I own nothing except this derivative fanwork which I do not profit from.
> 
> * * *
> 
> (12/25/2015 - 02/29/2016)


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